


Candlelit

by justdk



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 13:45:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13124961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justdk/pseuds/justdk
Summary: Cozy Pynch snuggles and sleepy talk. Also: Ronan has a beard





	Candlelit

**Author's Note:**

> This is a TRC Exchange for @cosmiccluck!!

“I think we have enough candles, Ronan,” Adam calls from the couch.

The power had gone out earlier in the evening and Ronan had gone into survival mode, making a fire and finding all the candles in the house. Declan and Matthew had turned in for the night but Adam and Ronan were lingering on the couch, enjoying the fire.

“As if,” Ronan calls back. “It’s still dark as a cave in here. I can’t see your face.”

Adam burrows back into the cushions, pulling the fleece blanket up to his neck. Ronan may not be able to see him but he has a wonderful view of Ronan, standing on tiptoes to reach the candles on the mantle. He’s wearing grey sweats and a festive plaid flannel shirt. He looks like he might have stepped out of a holiday ad and Adam feels his heart warm all over again. It’s good to be back.

Ronan knocks over an evergreen branch and curses. “I’m going to burn all this fucking greenery, I swear to God,” he mutters as he kicks the branch.

Adam snickers. “That’s what you get for going full domestic,” he teases. “Greenery and candles everywhere.”

“You weren’t complaining about me being domestic when you came home and found all the Christmas cookies,” Ronan reminds him.

“Oof,” Adam groans. “I ate too many. I never want to see a Christmas cookie ever again.”

Ronan finishes fussing with the candles and rejoins him on the couch. “Budge over,” he says. “And you better help me eat all those cookies. Or take some back, at least.”

“Yes, dear,” Adam says sarcastically. He presses a kiss to Ronan’s cheek, his lips just brushing against the edge of Ronan’s soft beard. He’s still getting used to it. It’s nice though, he thinks, touching with curious fingers.

“That tickles,” Ronan growls and tries to nip at Adam’s fingers. This close and Adam can smell the woodsy scent coming from Ronan’s shirt. The changes in Ronan this autumn have been dramatic: beards, flannel, sticking close to home instead of stirring up trouble. Adam had talked to Declan about it and Declan claimed that Ronan was “nesting.” Adam was familiar with the concept but he wasn’t sure _why_ Ronan was nesting.

Ronan shifts around on the couch and pulls Adam on top of him, brushing the hair back from Adam’s forehead. His blue eyes look almost black in the darkened room. The glow from the candles softens his face, turning the severe lines gentle. For once he doesn’t have bags under his eyes; he’s sleeping better. Last night he didn’t wake up once, at least not that Adam could tell.

“That’s better,” Ronan murmurs looking up at him.

“Hmm?” Adam hums.

“I couldn’t see your face, I told you. Your face is too pretty to hide, Parrish.”

Adam blushes. It’s been years, but _still_. He captures Ronan’s hand in one of his, holding it against his cheek. Ronan grins and strokes his thumb over Adam’s skin.

“Why do you smell like the woods?” Adam asks. There’s so many things he wants to ask, like why the beard, the new wardrobe, the baking and candles, and… everything? He likes it but doesn’t really understand it. Perhaps the changes have been happening all along and he hadn’t notice until now.

“Had to collect firewood,” Ronan gestures at the fireplace where the fire is crackling away, warming the room.

“You’ve changed,” Adam finally admits. He caresses Ronan’s beard, trying to memorize the texture.

“So have you,” Ronan replies easily. “It’s inevitable.”

“Yes, but…” Adam trails off. Has he changed?

“It’s fucking cold, Parrish,” Ronan says without heat. “Facial hair is surprisingly warming, as is flannel. When summer returns I’ll be back to my badass ways. I know you like bad boys.” Ronan pinches him and Adam yelps before smacking his shoulder.

“Bastard,” Adam mutters and kisses Ronan, just once, before pulling back. “So this is the new you?”

“Christ… it’s a part of me, yeah.” He shrugs a little. “Maybe I’ve just, finally, started reading some of those articles Blue always sends me.”

Adam gets the articles, too. He’s read a couple between his usual coursework: recovery, self-care, meditation. The tips on sleeping have come in handy; perhaps that’s why Ronan’s getting more rest, too.

“That’s good,” Adam says. He rubs his palm over Ronan’s shaved head. That hasn’t changed and he’s glad. He can’t really conceive of Ronan with a full head of hair. “You think I’ve changed?”

“Yeah.” Ronan’s hands are on his hips, not demanding, just holding him. “You’re not as tense, when I call, when you’re here. You haven’t mentioned being stressed about next term or your grad school applications. And you haven’t complained about the things I gave you.”

“It’s Christmas, Ronan,” Adam says. “It would be poor taste to complain about gifts.”

“Never stopped you before.”

“Hmm.” Adam has to acknowledge that this is true. That it took him a while to relax his policy on receiving gifts. It’s always been easier around Ronan, who was so sneaky about gift giving, who dreamed most of the things he gave Adam. “Well I do love this thermal,” Adam says, plucking at his shirt. It’s soft and dark green and warm.

“It goes with your eyes.”

How can Ronan say such things with a straight face? Gazing up at him like he hung the moon.

“Romantic,” Adam accuses. He eases down so he’s laying on Ronan’s chest, feeling the gentle, rhythmic movement of his breaths. His bad ear is pressed over Ronan’s heart so, sadly, he can’t hear it beat but he thinks he can feel its pulse somehow.

Ronan sighs contently and pushes one hand under Adam’s shirt, rubbing his back. Adam could fall asleep right here, just like this, one arm stretched over Ronan’s chest, the other pulled up under him.

“You’re the one who bought me that album,” Ronan points out. “Can’t get much more romantic than that.” Adam had found the vinyl of _69 Love Songs_ while thrifting with some college friends at a yard sale. It was worth quite a bit online but Adam thought Ronan would appreciate it, even if it wasn’t the music he typically listened to. He had also given Ronan some used books that he had read and loved, including a well-loved paperback of _The Dark is Rising_. Ronan had gone a bit overboard with winter clothes and things for Adam’s dorm; Adam had to beg Ronan not to dream him a car though he suspected Ronan was saving that for his graduation.

“You can listen to a new song every day,” Adam murmurs. “Then, when you run out, I’ll send you something new.”

“Did you know they invented this thing called an mp3 player?” Ronan teases.

“Shush,” Adam says. “You know you love your dad’s old record player.”

Ronan hums in agreement. Adam has good memories of this past summer, lazing around at the Barns during the evening, listening to the records that had belonged to Niall Lynch, most of them traditional Irish music.

Adam tilts his chin up a bit and peers across the room. He can just make out white flakes falling past the windows. “It’s snowing again,” he murmurs.

“Opal and Matthew will be happy,” Ronan grunts. “Declan will not.”

Adam hides his grin against Ronan’s chest. “Just build him a garage already.”

“Fuck no,” Ronan grouses. “We have perfectly good barns he could use. Only he doesn’t want to park his car where the animals can get at it. Fucking ridiculous. Then he had to bitch about the power going out…”

“Do you think you’ll be able to fix the generator?” Adam asks though it’s not an urgent worry.

“Yeah. I’m contemplating putting the house on dream power, though,” Ronan says with a yawn. “Half the stuff is already non-electric.”

“Blue will approve,” Adam comments, yawning because Ronan is yawning. He runs his hand over Ronan’s ribs, which are no longer bony. Ronan’s gradually been filling out, eating better and tossing around hay bales and all that. He yawns again, his eyes blinking sleepily. “Should we move?”

“I’m never moving again,” Ronan answers. The fire pops and crackles, the candle flames dance and flicker. The old house makes its usual noises and outside it’s quiet. So quiet, especially compared to the dorms.

Adam stretches, his sock-covered feet brushing along Ronan’s legs. It’s cozy beneath the blanket, cozy being snuggled against Ronan. Ronan’s hands move against him, soothing and familiar.

“If I get too heavy just shove me off,” Adam says. He’s feeling too sleepy to keep talking.

“Sure,” Ronan says and kisses the top of his head. “Night, Adam. Merry Christmas.”

“Mmm,” Adam murmurs. “Same. Good to be home with you, love.”

Beneath him Ronan freezes, just for a second, before his arms tighten around Adam and Adam feels his heart surge. It’s incredibly rewarding. Adam smiles.

“Love you, too, babe,” Ronan whispers, his words lulling Adam to sleep.

That night Adam doesn’t dream of sugar plum or fairies or Santa’s reindeer, but his dreams are still sweet. And waking up in Ronan’s arms? That’s the sweetest gift of all.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr @dkafterdark


End file.
